


Breaking More Taboos

by Destiny_Of_A_Dragon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Cannibal Harry, Cannibal Harry Potter, Cannibalism, Dubious Consent, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Murder, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22883503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiny_Of_A_Dragon/pseuds/Destiny_Of_A_Dragon
Summary: The first time Harry broke the taboo, he’d been beyond starving, with little to no choice. The second and third times were much the same.But the fourth?That’s when everything changed.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Voldemort
Comments: 21
Kudos: 435
Collections: Read, why I only sleep an hour a night





	Breaking More Taboos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chaotic_Smutty (Anna_Hopkins)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Hopkins/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Taboo (It could only be called sublime)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887814) by [Chaotic_Smutty (Anna_Hopkins)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Hopkins/pseuds/Chaotic_Smutty). 



> You should read Chaotic Smutty’s ‘Taboo’ before this to understand it!
> 
> They’re one of my favorite authors and you should most definitely check out their other works too!<3

The first time Harry broke the taboo, he’d been beyond starving, with little to no choice. He was abandoned by his friends out in the wilderness, chasing what could only be a fool's errand, and with so little food. Harry personally thought that perhaps it could’ve been forgiven, perhaps it might have been fine… had it not happened again.

Hermione and Ron had said they were going to come back, had promised him that it shouldn’t have been more than a week. Harry was confident he could manage to hide all the evidence of the despicable act he had done within a week. And he was right. But… maybe a little too right.

Who knew a human's body only lasted a week for someone who had been starving for months? Certainly not Harry. He tried resisting the hunger again, tried pretending he wasn’t craving flesh. His friends would come back soon, he knew, and he couldn’t let them catch him in the act.

For all that Harry didn’t feel any remorse for his actions, he also knew they’d be horrified. They’d probably start believing all the lies told during his youth. About how he was dark, evil, the next Dark Lord. And there’d be no way to convince them otherwise, because Harry knew there was no excuse for what he’d done.

But they never came. Another week passed, during which he forced himself not to do it again, and finally a message arrived. Hermione‘s voice came to him when he answered it.

_“We’re so so sorry, Harry. The Death Eaters are watching us now. They don’t know that we know where you are, but they aren’t taking chances. I… I don’t think we’ll be able to come back anytime soon. Please hold on. We’ll get there as soon as possible, I promise. But… It'll probably be over a month before they give up. I… I really hope you find another deer, Harry.”_

He broke quickly after that. After a week of eating so good, his body barely survived it’s next starvation period. He held to the tree tightly, shivering, and stomach roiling violently. Harry knew he’d have thrown up if his body had anything left _to_ throw up.

“Voldemort,” he whispered into the cold air.

Cracks of apparition came below him, and Harry looked down with eyes wide, hungry, and desperate. Just as before, half a dozen men appeared, their stunners lighting up the surroundings as they shot them out in a circle. Once it was clear they had hit nothing, the leader called them to split up, and lit up his wand with a lumos.

The only difference from last time was that it was night. Harry had been too hungry to wait until day. Harry took aim at one of the men, paused, and whispered the killing curse. It’s bright green light flew fast into the man’s head, downing him in an instant.

Unfortunately, the light managed to catch the attention of one of the Snatchers. Harry cursed. He knew he should have waited until day, waited until the light of the spells wouldn’t be nearly as noticeable. The second man approached quickly, but luckily didn’t call out to the others.

Harry only had a second to react, and he only had one choice since his body was currently too weak to pull off a second killing curse. He hurled himself down from the trees, landing firmly on the back of the Snatcher who had only just noticed his fallen comrade. Harry could hear the snap of his neck breaking as he slammed a hand down on it while they fell.

He immediately froze, glancing around rapidly, but no one else approached. Another call from their leader, and the remaining men apparate away. He waited another minute, then grinned as he looked down at his haul. Two bodies. That was unexpected, but very useful.

His stomach grumbled at him, pulling at his insides and twisting. Harry gasped, clutching at it and eyeing the bodies consideringly. No! He shook his head. He needed to cook them first. He didn’t want to get food poisoning.

A flick of his wand had them levitating behind him as he trekked back to his tent. It didn’t take him long to have them tied up above the tub, which he’d vanished the previous blood from. A quick overpowered severing curse, and both their heads popped off, landing harshly on the edge of the tub.

Harry quickly made them float before they could spill blood everywhere. It was easy to replicate the movements he’d unconsciously memorized the last time he’d done this. In less than a half hour, a plate full of meat was served up in front of him.

He scarfed it down in minutes, somehow feeling more starved than he had the last time despite having gone a shorter amount of time without food. Perhaps it was because last time he hadn’t been eating much for quite some time, and as such, didn’t need much to fill himself. This time, he’d eaten good for an entire week, and then hadn’t eaten _anything_ the next week.

But it didn’t matter, not really. He had food again. _That’s_ what mattered.

  
  


**———**

  
  


Harry stood in the bathroom, watching the body drain blood. This was the third time he’d broke the taboo, the third time he called Voldemort’s name, and it was the third time he’d be cutting up bodies to eat.

Would the remorse ever come? Would he ever feel disgusted at what he’s done? He tilted his head curiously, watching the body sway in an invisible breeze. He’d only managed to catch one this time, but that was fine. It was nearing the end of the month, and Hermione had sent another patronus saying that the Death Eaters were starting to get lax.

They’d be making a break for it within the next two weeks. Harry’s hand slowly went up to clutch at the locket around his neck. He’d used to believe that it was because of the locket that he wasn’t feeling anything. One day, desperately wanting to feel _something_ for his actions, Harry tossed it aside, and not touched it for hours.

But it hadn’t changed anything. Harry genuinely didn’t feel anything about what he’d done. He felt no remorse for killing them. He wasn’t disgusted at eating them. He wasn’t upset or angry, or sad, or _anything_ about it. He was merely… numb.

His stomach twinged at him, reminding Harry that he hadn’t had breakfast that day. It wasn’t nearly as bad as starving for a week, so Harry almost ignored it to continue musing, but in the end shook his head. He didn’t want to think about it anymore.

  
  


**———**

  
  


“My Lord.”

Voldemort looked up from his paperwork, setting his quill down and folding his hands. He refrained from crucio-ing the man, knowing that it was during the time where he accepted abrupt reports. He absently wished it wasn’t, itching to torture someone. “Why have you disturbed me, Yaxley?”

“Something strange has been going on with the taboo, my Lord. Three times we’ve gotten called to the same forest on false alarms. I’ve noticed some people missing from Snatcher role calls afterwards, but we never find bodies when we check the area.”

He leaned back in his chair, raising a hand to his chin. “I see. Very well, then. I’ll follow you until you get called there again and see for myself.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

  
  


**———**

  
  


Harry clutched the branch of the tree tightly, before swinging himself up to crouch on top of it. He’d gotten another message yesterday, this time from Ron.

_“Hi, Harry. I don’t know what’s going on, but the Snatchers are starting to get a bit paranoid. They’re the ones watching us now, not just some random Death Eaters. The bloody gits. I don’t think we’re gonna make it out like we’d planned. Hope you’ll be alright for a while longer, mate.”_

He’d managed to stretch his last catch for almost the entire two weeks, but now he was out and very hungry. This would be his fourth time doing this, he realized. This, the thing that was probably what was making the Snatchers paranoid. He hoped they hadn’t changed their strategy. He really wasn’t in the mood for a fight.

Shifting slightly, Harry made sure he was firmly under his cloak. It was the middle of day, so hopefully they wouldn’t notice the spells like the second time he’d done this.

“Voldemort.”

In an instant, six men appeared below him. They shot out their usual stunning spells, then split up. They seemed to be staying closer together than before, but one of them was still stupid enough to leave the group more than the others.

Unfortunately, they were farther away from him. Harry knew that they wouldn’t search for long, though, so this one was probably his only chance. He moved from tree top to tree top, almost falling a multitude of times, but luckily managed to get to the tree directly above them in one piece.

“Avada Kedavra.” He was so used to casting the spell by this time that it easily slipped from his lips, and he barely felt the pull of magic as it drained him. The man fell to his knees and then face planted the ground, all without making a single noise.

The rest of the Snatchers seemed to glance around for something, as if they were waiting for a signal, but after a minute or so of nothing, they all shrugged and apparated away.

Harry made sure the body was levitated inside the spells of the tent, and then climbed down, rushing to get inside of them. The method he used to cook them was starting to become habit, and within the hour, Harry had a plate of meat cooked up and ready.

He dug in eagerly, savoring each bite. It was as he bit into the final slice of meat that he heard something. A chuckle. Eyes widening, Harry shot up, wand waving frantically around as he tried to identify where it came from.

“My, my, Harry. What do we have here?” The air close to the entrance of the tent shimmered and then slowly parted to reveal… Voldemort? Voldemort!

“Holy shit,” Harry cursed, immediately sending a stunning spell in an effort to catch him off guard. It didn’t work, and the Dark Lord merely waved the spell aside as if it was simply a fly.

“Harry, why such a hostile greeting?” He inquired with a charming smile, one very unlike the malicious grin Harry was used to. It surprisingly fit his serpentine face in a way Harry had assumed it wouldn’t. His bright red eyes flashed with delight as he glanced at the last morsel left on Harry’s plate.

Oh. Oh, _no_. He had seen, hadn’t he? Ignoring the panic rising in his throat, Harry attempted to sound brave. “Why wouldn’t I? You’ve been trying to kill me my whole life!”

Voldemort chuckled again. “Yes, of course. But you needn’t worry about that now. I won’t hurt you. Not now that I see you really are my equal.” He took a step forward, his smile widening, “Tell me, Harry. How long have you been a cannibal?”

Despite the fact he felt nothing at what he’s done, that word sent a massive wave of denial straight through his core. Cannibal? A… cannibal? He wasn’t…. no, he wasn’t a cannibal. Was he? No, no, he couldn’t be. 

“I-I’m not a… a cannibal! I-I-I’m… I’m not!” He shouted desperately, not noticing his wand arm lowering.

“Ah, then what would you call this?” Voldemort waved towards his meal with a satisfied look, as if nothing could please him more than this.

“That’s… that’s not cannibalism! It’s, it’s… not! I… I was… desperate. I didn’t have any food, nothing, I was starving, it’s not, it’s not cannibalism! It’s not! I-I-I did it because I had no other choice!”

Voldemort gave a half sigh, half laugh, shaking his head. “Of course, Harry. I’ll be taking my leave now. Don’t you worry, I’ll be back.” With that, the Dark Lord disappeared in a puff of smoke. Harry collapsed to his knees.

Oh, Merlin, what had just happened? Harry took a deep breath, and stood back up on wobbly legs. He took a glance at the small sliver of meat left, and then bit his lip. It wasn’t cannibalism. It wasn’t. This… this was… fine. Right? He had no choice, right?

He nodded firmly to himself, and snatched up the last bit of it, still slightly hungry. Then he turned to begin packing up. There was no way he could stay in this part of the forest anymore. Even if he couldn’t set up the spells and wards as well as Hermione could, he couldn’t stay here. Not when the Dark Lord knows exactly where he is.

  
  


**———**

  
  


It only took Voldemort two weeks to find him again, just a few days after Harry ran out of food again. He hadn’t wanted to try catching a Snatcher after his visit, too afraid that it would lead Voldemort right to him. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to matter.

Harry eyed the man as he entered his tent, sitting in a chair at a table directly across from the entrance. Voldemort seemed to be levitating something behind him, but Harry couldn’t tell what. He smiled at him eagerly, briefly glancing at the wand Harry had pointed at him before ignoring it.

“You wish to prove you aren’t a cannibal, correct?” Harry hesitantly nodded at the question, uncertain as to what he may be planning. The Dark Lord revealed what was behind his back. Two identical beautiful dishes of food came into view. Harry’s mouth watered as he watched it. They were placed side by side in front of him.

“One of these is made with human flesh, the other is merely pork. I want you to take a bite of each and then tell me which one you like better. If it’s the pork you like better, then you’ll prove you only ate human flesh out of necessity. If it’s the human…” Voldemort trailed off with a mischievous look.

“How do I know you didn’t poison them?” Harry asked, his desperation to prove he wasn’t a cannibal coming through. The man simply took a bite of each dish himself and then gestured Harry forward.

He leaned forward, eyeing them as he bit his lip. After a glance at the Dark Lord, Harry picked up the fork laying in front of him. He took a bite of each, somehow unable to remember what the taste of human flesh was. He took another look at the Dark Lord’s face, which had an ‘innocent’ smile, and concluded that he must have done something.

After a second's hesitation, he picked the left one. Voldemort didn’t say anything, just gave him a gesture to eat more. Harry obeyed, the two bites having done nothing but egg his hunger on. It was as he was almost done that he glanced up, and froze at the smug look on the man’s face.

“This… this isn’t pork… is it?”

“No, it’s not, Harry.”

He was flooded with memories of how human flesh tasted and gasped quietly, dropping his fork. Voldemort had moved closer to him and was now leaning over the table until he was directly in his face. Harry jolted up, but Voldemort pinned his wrists to the table and got closer.

“Face it, Harry. You’re a cannibal. You eat human flesh and you enjoy it, don’t you? You love how it tastes. How sweet it is, how it falls apart so easily, almost like it’s melting. It’s delicious, isn’t it?”

“How… How do you know what it tastes like?” He whispered, wide eyes staring at the Dark Lord’s face inches from his own. The man chuckled, tilting his head and coming even closer until he was talking directly into his ear.

“You’re not the only cannibal here, Harry.” Teeth bit into his earlobe, and Harry gasped, tilting his head away. “Tell me. Have you ever tried it raw?”

“N-no… why would I…?”

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“....N-no…”

“You’re lying, Harry.” The Dark Lord finally moved away, and Harry relaxed with a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He turned and summoned something into the tent. Harry had to sit up to see it. He shivered when he saw it was a dead body, a Death Eater he didn’t recognize, and knew exactly what Voldemort was planning. His hands were still pinned to the table, so even though Harry struggled to get away, he wasn’t able to move from his seat.

An arm was quickly severed and brought over, landing on the table in front of his plate. A piece of it was peeled off simply from the force of Voldemort’s magic, luckily only skin and meat, and then brought up to Harry’s lips.

It stained his lips a bright red from the blood, but Harry refused to open them, turning away. One of the Dark Lord’s hands grabbed both his wrists, leaving his other hand free. It quickly found place in Harry’s hair and yanked his head back.

Harry’s mouth opened in a gasp, but he clamped it shut again before the piece of meat could be forced into it. Voldemort huffed angrily, leaning back but not letting go of him. He put the piece of meat into his own mouth, chewing at it.

All of a sudden, his head was yanked farther back and a mouth sealed over his own. Harry’s eyes widened, and he tried to jerk back in shock, but was easily kept in place. Teeth firmly bit into his lip, pulling it away and sucking it into his mouth. Voldemort’s tongue flicked out to lick at his teeth, before he tilted his head and slid their mouths even closer together.

Harry slammed his eyes shut, trying to resist, but eventually his teeth parted slightly. The Dark Lord immediately took advantage and shoved his tongue into his mouth, using it pry it open even further. He kept kissing him, moving his mouth along his, and exploring it with his tongue.

It was enough to distract Harry and that was when the piece of meat was pushed into his mouth. He let out a startled sound as Voldemort pulled back, eyes shooting open wide as he registered the meat in his mouth. Voldemort bit along his jaw, licking it until he was by his ear again. “Chew it.”

He wasn’t sure why he obeyed, but he did. It was much tougher without being cooked, and some of the flavor wasn’t quite as strong. For some reason, the blood still on it made up for it, replacing the missing parts with a strong metallic flavor. It… wasn’t too bad, in all honesty. He preferred it cooked, but this was… alright.

“That’s it,” Voldemort whispered to him, and then began biting his neck as Harry swallowed. “Have some more.” Another piece was presented to him, and Harry hesitantly accepted it.

“What… What about food poisoning?” Harry choked out in-between chews.

Voldemort almost snorted. “We’re wizards, Harry. Food poisoning is beyond easy to cure.” Another piece was pushed into Harry’s mouth before he could finish swallowing, and then Voldemort kissed him again. There was more blood on this piece, enough to swish around in his mouth as Voldemort dominated him.

The Dark Lord stole the meat from him, and then pushed it back into his mouth. When he eventually pulled away after Harry swallowed, a thick string of blood ridden saliva connected them. Harry shivered, panting slightly as his eyes half-lidded. He licked his lip, disconnecting the line.

“I… I want… more.”

A devilish grin spread across Voldemort’s face.

“As you wish.”


End file.
